Check out my previous blog for some context… This is part two.
 
Helpful hands?
As the HUD Secretary, the context of Carson’s position focused on government’s role in domestic poverty. He said that he believes that government can provide a "helping hand" to people looking to climb out of poverty. But he warned against programs that are "sustaining them in a position of poverty. That’s not helpful", he claims.
 
I agree, of course. That’s probably not a surprise to anyone who’s spent more than ten minutes talking to me about 410 Bridge’s development model. The government should help. Safety nets are needed, helpful, and a good thing. But it shouldn’t create programs that keep people from thriving on their own. It shouldn’t create systems that promote passivity and disempower people.
 
Carson’s comments got me thinking and was another reason I wrote my book – If You Really Want to Help.
 
Shouldn’t non-profits be held to the same standard? Shouldn’t non-profits, especially faith-based organizations, resist programs and activities that perpetuate poverty?
 
Here is a true story I share in my book to illustrate the point.
 
I was invited to meet with a faith-based organization who, allegedly, wanted to change their approach to helping the poor. This wasn’t entirely accurate, but nonetheless, I was told that they wanted to learn more about the 410 Bridge community development model, and I was more than willing to share what we do. They’d been working in the same area of the same country for over 30 years.

 Meet Frank
I met with one of their senior guys (let’s call him Frank) and representatives from a partner church. We chatted for a while, and I learned a little more about their organization. They maintain an in-country operations center that US teams from the church visit regularly. The operations center is the hub of their effort to help the people in the area. 
 
Frank was especially excited to talk about the impact their organization was having on US short-term teams. He said, “Kurt, we both know that the transformation that happens with US teams is amazing. But left to their own devices, US teams will just mess it up. I’m sure you’d agree that we have to control what teams do and when they do it.”
 
There’s truth to his point for sure, but that’s another topic for another time.
 
One of the church representatives jumped in. “Yeah, but you never allow us to build relationships with the people. We’re always in the compound. We never get to interact with the community.” Her comment felt less like a statement of fact, and more like an indictment.
 
I asked Frank to explain what teams do when they visit. 
 
“The first morning, teams sort donated clothing and shoes. In the afternoon, people from the community come to our compound and the teams distribute the clothes & shoes. The second day, the teams create nutritional meal packets from food we ship in from the US. In the afternoon, people come to the compound to receive the meals. The third day, the teams distribute baby formula…”
 
I stopped him there and asked if anyone could simply come to their facility and receive clothes, food, or baby formula. Frank laughed (a little too mockingly) and said, “Of course not. We work through the local church. If people need something, they go to their local church. The church gives them a voucher, and then they come to the compound to redeem the voucher for stuff they need.”
 
At that point, I interrupted and asked if I could ask a clarifying question. Before I did, I tried to soften the blow by confessing that I’m known for being direct; some might say radically honest. I explained that people usually say something like, “That’s OK, Kurt. Feel free to be direct.” Until I am.
 
Cost of Transformation
Anyway, I asked Frank the following question…. “You talk about the transformation that occurs within US teams because of their visit. It seems that this transformation comes at a cost to the people you serve. At what point does your organization recognize that the cost to the people you serve outweighs the benefit of the transformation to the US team members?”
 
“What do you mean?” He asked.
 
“I mean that transformation comes at a cost to the people your organization serves. When is that cost too great to justify the impact on the US team?”
 
Frank missed my point. He was quick to point out that the clothing, food, and baby formula didn’t cost the poor anything. It was all free.
 
“I understand,” I said. “But this supposed ‘transformation’ comes at the expense of the poor. You’re doing more to perpetuate the problem than solve it. And, equally as bad, you’re illustrating a broken and unhealthy model to the US teams. Your visitors think that this is an effective way to address poverty and it perpetuates their broken perspective. In my view, you’re turning the people you serve into beggars.”
 
Yikes! As you might imagine, Frank wasn’t too thrilled with that last statement.
 
A Material Problem
The point is this… I’m guessing that Frank’s organization has read all the books – When Helping Hurts, Toxic Charity, etc. – and would probably say that they agree. They quote principals like involving local leaders, working through the local church, not pushing our ideas on the people we serve, etc. Yet, in practice those principals go by the wayside.
 
Why is that?
  
Like so many people and organizations looking to help the poor, this story is a great example of seeing poverty as a material problem. It’s financial. It’s about stuff.
 
When you define poverty as solely a material problem, your solutions will be solely material. And that simply does not solve the poverty problem.
 
The questions for these organizations are, “When will it stop and when will the people claiming to care about the poor – especially the faith-based community – stop stripping them of their dignity? Also, when will we move from simply agreeing that good intentions are not good enough, to a place where our actions actually reflect our Christian worldview?"
 
A Worldview Shift
I’ll tell you when… and I can only speak to the faith-based community here. When we begin to think differently about our perspectives of the people we serve. We’ll stop when we stop seeing the poor as a set of problems to be solved and start seeing them as the solution to their poverty problem. We’ll stop when, once and for all, we separate what we give and how we give it from our need to feel good about ourselves.
 
It appears to me that the approach of many (too many) faith-based Christian organizations resembles more of a secular approach to poverty than a Christian worldview approach. All physical.
 
The people we serve have been wonderfully made by their Creator. Let’s help restore their dignity, not disempower them by doing for them what they have the capacity to do for themselves.
 
~Kurt

In his book – If You Really Want to Help – Kurt lays out a fresh blueprint for redefining the war on poverty, how to win it, and how we fight the battle together. His book will be released February 28, 2023, and is available for pre-order here.

If you haven’t heard by now, I wrote a book. It’s titled “If You Really Want to Help” and it will officially become available on the 28th. In it I share the origin story of 410 Bridge and how we seek to redefine the war on poverty.
 
A few years ago, the Washington Post published an article about a statement Ben Carson made during a SiriusXM radio interview with Armstrong Williams. Carson said that he thought poverty, to a “large extent”, was a “state of mind.” He went on to explain his position, but as you might imagine, he took a fair bit of grief, in large part, from folks who don’t agree with his politics. Like most issues these days, we can’t seem to take a position on a topic without someone being offended. Mr. Carson’s comments were no exception. 
 
Mr. Carson’s comments are at the very heart of my book. Allow me to explain…
 
Fairness...
As I waded through the responses to his comments – ignoring the visceral, hate-filled nonsense – the reasoned arguments against his position were, not surprisingly, from the secular perspective. Secular being defined as physical only. No God. We’re all just evolved animals. Cogs in an infinite cosmic wheel. Truth is relative. And so on…
 
The notion that poverty is purely a material or financial problem always leaves me scratching my head. Outside the context of a catastrophic event (natural disasters, war, etc.), the reality is that poverty doesn’t just happen. I’ve come to see firsthand that it’s rooted in how people view themselves. How they view their relationships with each other, the environment, and most importantly, what they think about when they think about God. It flows from their assumptions on how the world works (or should work) and the choices they make based on those assumptions. It’s about worldview.
 
I’m learning that those who see poverty through a secular lens – purely physical, disregarding the spiritual – invariably look for someone or something to blame. Blame the poor for their poverty. Or, more commonly, blame the non-poor. Blame the injustices of colonialism, overpopulation, the lack of resources, infrastructure, or political systems. They’ll call for the redistribution of wealth or preach about “fairness.” 
 
Spoiler alert: Fairness is a myth. Andy Stanley says it best, “Fairness ended at the Garden.”
 
What is the worldview?
In his book Discipling Nations, Darrow Miller said it this way. “A worldview does more to influence people’s flourishing – their prosperity or poverty – than does their physical environment or other circumstances.” 
 
And oh, by the way… It feels a little hypocritical of those on the secular side to dismiss the role worldview plays in the fight against poverty. To them, a non-secular worldview is irrelevant, after all, because life is rooted in the physical. There is no God. There is no spiritual element to consider. Truth is relative. Humans are evolved animals, that’s all. We live. We die. That’s it.
 
Yet, their secular position is also rooted in a worldview. We all have one. It’s unavoidable. The choices they make are based on their assumptions of how the world works. Their choices drive their behavior. In essence, their secular worldview becomes their religion.
 
But none of this is terribly new. Folks way smarter than me have written about this stuff for years. “Discipling Nations” was first published 20+ years ago. More recent works like When Helping Hurts (Corbett & Fikkert) and Toxic Charity (Lupton) all talk about the dangers of viewing poverty through the material lens. Volumes have been written. Almost everyone I meet that works with the poor has read them. There’s plenty of data out there to support it. We even point to the trillions of dollars spent to eradicate poverty, yet we don’t really talk about the link between poverty and worldview.
 
Why is that?
 
I have my thoughts and there in the book, so I’d be grateful if you would read it. Our focus at 410 Bridge is on how to effectively help the poor shift their worldview and thrive. To help them know that God loves them, that He has a purpose for their life, and they have responsibilities. To help them see the fruit of being a Godly parent, spouse, teacher, business owner, and leader. To help them see that an abundant life is possible. To help communities be compassionate, full of dignity, purpose, and freedom to thrive without being dependent on outsiders.
 
If you’re familiar with 410 Bridge and our work with the global poor, you know that we’ve never defined poverty as a material problem. We see it as a worldview problem. Since the beginning, we’ve held fast to the idea that if we were really – I mean, no foolin’ – REALLY going to help communities break the cycle of poverty, we needed to look beyond their physical challenges and help change their perspectives.
 
That, in essence, is what I believe Carson was saying. What he labels as their ‘state of mind’ is what we label worldview or perspective.
 
Check back for Part Two as I explore another angle of Mr. Carson’s comments. You can read the full Washington Post article here... https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/post-politics/wp/2017/05/24/ben-carson-calls-poverty-a-state-of-mind-during-interview/?noredirect=on
 
~Kurt

In his book – If You Really Want to Help – Kurt lays out a fresh blueprint for redefining the war on poverty, how to win it, and how we fight the battle together. His book will be released February 28, 2023 and is available for pre-order here.

Belonging To
Kwambekenya was one of 410 Bridge’s first communities in Kenya. How the community got its name is rooted in its founding a few decades ago.
 
The people of Kwambekenya lived in the forest just outside the Aberdare National Park. Their high-altitude community is literally at the end of a road that dead ends into the Aberdare National Forest.

For years their primary livelihood was to harvest timber from the forest. The Kenyan government, to save the national forest, abruptly stopped the harvesting of trees and told the community to move out of the forest. They were essentially evicted.
 
Thankfully, a large plot of land just outside the forest was owned by the Mbekenya family who were willing to sell their land in small ¼ - ½ acre plots. Thus, Kwambekenya was founded.
 
The community gets its name from “Kwa” meaning “to / belonging to” and “mbekenya” representing the original owner of the land.
 
A Health Clinic
When we were invited to visit Kwambekenya, we learned that the leadership was strong as were the people. Their shared struggle of being evicted and establishing a new home created a strong sense of community. We also learned their greatest challenge was the 10 km distance to the nearest hospital.
 
If community members were ill or if women experienced complications during pregnancy, it was virtually impossible to get to the hospital in time. Often the sick would be transported on bicycle or wheelbarrow across bumpy roads. The local 410 Bridge leadership council decided to build a health clinic in their community and asked if we would help.
 
The first step was securing the land. The leaders felt the community could raise 10-20% of the cost from their next harvest. They would also provide all the unskilled labor and a portion of the materials for the clinic itself.
 
We agreed to help. We had a small group of donors and church partners who were excited to participate.
 
Only $800
When the harvest season ended, we had raised our portion of the funding commitment, and we were ready to purchase the land. I visited the community, ready to celebrate this very important first step and move to the building phase.
 
But at the Leadership Council meeting I learned that the community came up short of their commitment. A severe frost had damaged their crops and they didn’t have the funds needed to purchase the land.
 
They were short about $800.
 
The problem wasn’t the amount. I literally had that in my pocket. The problem was that we had donors and church partners on the other side of the bridge thinking we were ready to move forward.

We told them the plan and the timeline. They had patiently waited months for the growing season to end. I couldn’t go back and tell them we had to wait another growing season (six months) before we could move forward. Especially for $800!
 
Timing is everything...
​So, I leaned over to our Country Director and whispered in his ear, “I want to cover the difference and move on.”
 
What transpired after that was a great lesson to me. He looked at me and said, without hesitation, “No!”
 
As I gave him a questioning glare, he continued. “If you do that, you’ll undermine the entire effort. You’ll slow down the process of community responsibility and ownership. If you do that, we may never regain the community’s understanding that it is their land and their responsibility.”
 
I pushed back. “I understand. I really do.” [To be clear, I didn’t understand at all.]  “But I have donors on my side of the bridge that are expecting me to come home with progress.”
 
He said plainly, “This is progress. The answer is ‘no’.”
 
My Flexibility Pants
Like I said, it was a valuable lesson. It was time for me to don my flexibility pants and leave my watch at home.
 
To create ownership of the solutions, we must work at the community’s pace, not ours. They lead, we follow.
 
In my mind, I was going home empty handed and would have to explain to our partners that we had taken a step back. But we hadn’t taken a step back. The real problem was that my mindset needed to change.

A Love Affair With Efficiency
Time has authority in my world. We have a love affair with efficiency. If we can solve a setback with a little more money, we tend to do just that.
 
But that approach undermines our model of enabling the self-developing capabilities of the people we serve. I am grateful for the lesson.
 
In the end, the community raised its portion of the funding during the next harvest season. The clinic was built, and it is indigenously sustainable today nearly 15 years after it was built.
 
So, remember, if you ever have a chance to visit a 410 Bridge community, be sure to pack your flexibility pants.

​~Kurt

In his book – If You Really Want to Help – Kurt lays out a fresh blueprint for redefining the war on poverty, how to win it, and how we fight the battle together. His book will be released February 28, 2023 and is available for pre-order here.

It’s one thing for development organizations like 410 Bridge to say that relationships are paramount. The tricky part is how to do that.

In my new book – If You REALLY Want to Help – I talk about the importance of being invited into partnership with a community. 
​
The ACCORD Network – an association of faith-based relief and development organizations – has as one of its core principles that organizations looking to help the poor should enter as guests, co-labor as partners, and depart as friends.
 
Unfortunately, many well-intentioned do-gooders, loaded down with their limited resources, a sense of urgency, and overflowing emotions, have a hard time applying this principle when boots hit the ground.
 
Relationships First
The first thing to understand is that projects, no matter how large or small, should be the fruit of the relationships we build, not the other way around. Do we use projects in hopes of building a relationship? Or do we build a relationship, learn about the people, their vision for their future, their strengths, and then follow their lead toward solutions? This takes time and patience; something our side of the bridge struggles with.
 
It’s the ‘enter as guests’ part of the ACCORD principle that gets overlooked. Sure, we’ll give it lip service, but then say things like, “Of course we were invited. We’re here to help and who wouldn’t want our help?”  
 
Guest or Savior?
But if we’re brutally honest, we don’t think of ourselves as guests. We see ourselves as saviors – the cavalry charging over the hill to save the day. That may be appropriate in times of a catastrophe – flood, earthquake, conflict, etc. – but in a development context, indigenous leadership and community participation lay the foundation for indigenous sustainability.
 
If we get this wrong, we also create a power imbalance between the giver and the receiver. As I outline in my book,
 
One of the ways to prevent this imbalance is to be invited into a relationship by the people we seek to help. When the receiver—the one experiencing need—invites someone into a relationship, they are less likely to see the giver as “them” or “those people” and more likely to seeing the giver as “us.” The tricky part is for the giver to continue to subordinate their hoped-for solutions for the receiver to solutions that the receiver thinks are best. After all, we’ve been invited into their reality, not ours. It’s like being invited to a party and then barreling in the door and spending the whole evening suggesting ways that the host could make the party better. Not only will you make the party extremely unpleasant but also you will do some serious damage to your relationship with the host.
 
Guests are invited. A list of needs or projects that they want you to undertake is not an invitation. Showing up, pointing out all the problems that we see, and announcing how we plan to help is not an invitation either.
 
A Vision for the Future
In 410 Bridge communities, an invitation is a formal written request to visit a community and get to know one other. We learn if they have a vision for their future, what they’re doing to accomplish that vision, and their commitment to mobilize and unify their community. They learn what it means to be a 410 Bridge community; what we will, and will not, do. But it doesn’t end with the first invitation. After that initial meeting, if they want to partner, we ask for a formal invitation from the leaders of the community.
 
We believe we should limit our efforts to those actions and attitudes that enhance trusting relationships with our partner communities. So, we enter a place only when we’ve been invited. We do with, not for. They lead, we follow. We allow them to stumble, grow, and fail. And we work at their pace, not the donor’s.
 
And what about short-term trips?
 
And What About Short-term Trips?
The same principle applies.
 
Are teams invited, or are we just crashing the party?

One of the ways to verify this is to be honest about the itinerary. Who created it?

Is the community asking you to participate in what they already have going on, or are you telling them what you want to do when you’re there?

If it’s the latter, you’re a party crasher.
 
Listening First
Over the years, we’ve learned that entering as an invited guest takes time. It starts with a conversation – questions, not answers, and a bunch of listening.

​In the end, those questions ensure that our work together is the fruit of the relationship, not the result of some State-side solution to give a bunch of well-intentioned Westerners a life changing experience helping the poor with stuff they don’t really need or want.
 
Take the time to get to know one another. When you show up uninvited, you crash the party. But when you’re invited, you’re welcomed and wanted—and on your way to a healthy, fruitful partnership.

​~ Kurt

In his book – If You Really Want to Help – Kurt lays out a fresh blueprint for redefining the war on poverty, how to win it, and how we fight the battle together. His book will be released February 28, 2023, and is available for pre-order here.

Every good story has two key aspects. A good story has a conflict to overcome, and a hero that overcomes it. We all love a good hero.
 
The war on poverty is like that. It’s a conflict that needs to be overcome and it has a hero. But all too often we think the hero of the story is us.
 
It’s not.
 
Here’s a true story that illustrates what I’m talking about.
 
I was invited to a small rural community in Honduras by a safe water organization. The purpose of the visit was to evaluate the leadership and determine if 410’s development model would be welcome. I was accompanied by a couple donors that wanted to see how we vetted communities and community leaders.
 
It was a typical rural Honduran community. The community was very poor with no school, no economic activity, and little hope or opportunity. It did, however, have a small safe-water project recently completed by the organization that invited us.
 
It's Not Them...
While walking through the community, we visited the home of a middle-aged man named Santos. He lived with his wife and three children in a ramshackle home with a dirt floor and a curtain separating its two rooms. Santos welcomed us into his home. Our conversation centered around his family and his community. I love to find out what people like about living in their community. What strengths and gifts do they have? Is there anything that they do so well that they could teach others? These conversations help them, and us, see beyond the obvious needs and focus on their strengths and gifting.
 
During the conversation, we learned that Santos was the custodian of the local water project. Although the water project paid him to oversee it, the gap between Santos and the poorest members of his community was not very wide.
 
After a warm and friendly visit, we thanked Santos and his wife for their hospitality, and we continued our walking tour of the community.
 
It's Not You...
Later that night, I was talking with the two donors that accompanied me and one of them confessed.
 
“I know you’re not going to like this, but I gave Santos twenty bucks.”
 
“Really…? Why?” I replied, struggling not to show my displeasure.
 
“Yeah, well… I know what you’re going to say, but he needed it. It was just a 'mere' 20 bucks!”
 
The "mere" has multiple levels:
 
Other than the very real possibility that the next gringo to visit the community may likely be asked for a handout, a mere (“mere” to us) twenty dollars provided yet another reason to see the affluent North American as the provider. And, still more insidious, another reason for a husband and father to feel emasculated in front of his family. A little more thought… a little less expediency… and the local Church could have emerged as the hero.
 
I explained to my well-intentioned friend that there is a healthy way to help, and an unhealthy way to help. It starts with separating what we give, and how we give it, from our need to feel good about ourselves. In this case, he missed a priceless opportunity to allow the local church to be the Church. Instead of an “Andrew Jackson” handshake, he could have merely found out where Santos attends church. We could have talked to the leaders and the pastor of that church and allowed them to navigate help for Santos’s family.
 
Another important point here… Santos had a job! He wasn’t the neediest in the community and the local church knows that better than anyone. He was being paid by the community to manage the water project – a place Americans commonly visit. How will the community feel when (not if) they learn that Santos accepted money from people visiting his home and the water project?
 
It's the Church...
In all we do, we should insist on making the local Church the hero whenever possible. Notice I said “Church” (big-C). In our context, walking alongside a single church in a community can create division and jealousy. That’s why we work hard to unify the local churches through pastor’s fellowships, participation in Leadership Councils, and integrating church-led discipleship into the humanitarian programs.
 
The results are incredibly encouraging, and in some cases amazing. Pastors and Christian leaders put aside their differences and work together. Imagine that! Churches fundraise for each other. Pastors teach in each other’s churches. Churches become—collectively—the hub of the development effort and the voice of the people. The hero…

~ Kurt

In his book – If You Really Want to Help – Kurt lays out a fresh blueprint for redefining the war on poverty, how to win it, and how we fight the battle together. His book will be released February 28, 2023 and is available for pre-order here.

​I used to think that education was the backbone of development. I was wrong. It’s economic development. 
 
Sure, education is a critical component in breaking the cycle of extreme poverty, but the reality in the communities where 410 Bridge works is that the primary barriers to a quality education can be eliminated by lifting household incomes. A family’s inability to afford school fees or a uniform are examples of why a child doesn’t attend school.

Kids are dependent. Even if we’re successful in lifting the quality of education in a school, those initiatives can’t be indigenously sustained without adequate resources within the community. That’s one of the reasons why economic development trumps education as the backbone.
 
Create Employers
But here’s the thing… Most folks, when they think about improving the economic situation, limit their thinking to jobs. People need jobs, and an educated workforce is essential for people to get employed. The prevailing wisdom is that if we invest more resources in education, more people are employable.
 
They’re not necessarily wrong. But the problem in rural developing world communities is that large employers do not exist. The only way to find employment is to move to urban centers and, unfortunately, finding a job in the city is more of a myth than a reality, so the cycle continues.
 
That’s why we see more success when we help create employers, not employees.
 
Morrine's Story
In my new book – If You REALLY Want to Help – I share a story of Morrine that illustrates the point.
 
Morrine lives in a rural Kenyan community where the average household income is less than $2.00 per day. Morrine attended and graduated from 410 Bridge’s Business Start-up Training (BST). She was in a class with 25 entrepreneurs from her community. At the time, she sold chips (french fries) at the back of a trading center. She had one small fryer and was struggling to make $10 a month.
 
During the training, she learned basic business skills that taught her how to sustain and grow her struggling micro-business. By continually identifying new opportunities, Morrine transformed her business to a restaurant serving different types of food. Her initial investment was $35.
 
Bigger Than Her
Morrine hired 2-3 of her neighbors to work in her restaurant as she launched her second business - a salon & cosmetics shop.
 
Within 18 months, Morrine employed eight of her neighbors. If you do the math, Morrine’s initial investment of $35 now generates over $1,000 of increased household income for nine families. That’s 2x more than the average household income.
 
Morrine affords her children’s school fees and sponsors other children in her community to attend school.  And just so you know… According to the Global Poverty Project, women reinvest up to 90 percent of their incomes back into their families and communities (compared to just 30-40 percent for men). 
 
No Hand-Outs
It’s important to note that Morrine started her business with her own capital. The 410 Bridge provided the training of how to start, and operate, a God-honoring profitable business. The cost to train Morrine was about $250, but she was required to start her business with her own seed capital. No hand-outs. No micro-loans. No subsidies.
 
The best news is that there are dozens of people like Morrine in her community, and thousands more in other 410 Bridge communities. People with potential stories of true transformation - economically, socially, and spiritually.
 
Like…
 
Francis in Kiu… Wholesaler / distributor. Initial investment - $10. Within a year of his training, he employed two people, generating $400 of additional household income every month.
 
Chris in Kahuria - Cinema and billiards. Initial investment - $5 and a small TV. He employees four people, generating over $500 of additional household income every month. 
 
[Side note: I met Chris several years ago and was so impressed with his story that I included it in my book. He told me, “Before the BST training, I was a nobody. I was an orphan who had nothing. I was a nobody. But today I am someone! I even have a wife. I own one acre of land that I farm and I’m working on getting my second cow.”]
 
Creating Employers
Here’s my point… The 410 Bridge is redefining the war on poverty. We’re re-defining what it means to win it, what it means for the people living in extreme poverty, and most importantly, how we fight the battle together. Part of the ‘redefining’ means we need to rethink traditional thinking. Investments to create employers is not just better educated, but unemployed, employees, is one of the ways that we’re doing that. Simply educating the next generation isn’t good enough.
 
The people we serve are capable, industrious, and creative. They are the solution to their poverty problem.
 
~ Kurt

In his book – If You Really Want to Help – Kurt lays out a fresh blueprint for redefining the war on poverty, how to win it, and how we fight the battle together. His book will be released February 28, 2023 and is available for pre-order here.

In my new book – If You REALLY Want to Help – I share a story of an object lesson we’ve been using with community leaders since the beginning of 410 Bridge. It goes something like this…

When we meet with leaders in the early days of a partnership, we present a long piece of rope and ask one of the leaders to hold one end of a rope while we hold the other. We use the rope to describe their community’s relationship with 410 Bridge by attempting to move the leader by pushing the rope. While we’re pushing the rope, we ask the leader at the other end why they are not moving! The illustration gets lots of laughs. 

The solution was obvious: for us to go anywhere together, the leader had to pull us. The leader also has to know where they are going; meaning the leader was good with their own vision. If they lead, and we follow, we can go a long way together.

The illustration, while simple, has been effective. Unfortunately, it’s a major blind spot in the West and how we engage the poor.

Major Blind Spot
We (the West) don’t ask. Even if we do, we typically don’t listen.

We have the money and the idea, and therefore we think it should be done our way, at our pace. After all, we know better, and they (the poor) should be grateful for our help. Right?

But what if we paused, and instead of rushing to the solution we became learners? What if we truly saw ourselves as guests in their community who were invited (literally) to walk with them on their journey of development?

The answer is clear, and we see it happening in 410 Bridge communities around the world. Communities mobilize without us; not waiting for us to do ‘for’ them. They lead. We follow. They own both their problems and the solutions. Our role is to be a catalyst for change and to help them go further, faster. We do not direct, control, or sustain.

This happens in every successful 410 Bridge community. But that’s the easy part. The hard part is on our side of the bridge. We in the West tend to be impatient.

Love Affair With Efficiency
We have a love affair with efficiency. Time has authority in our world — we expect things to happen quickly and efficiently — because after all, it’s our time and money that made this happen. Right?

Here’s an actual story of what this looks like. It’s just one of many.

Several years ago, a group of American doctors visited one of The 410 Bridge’s communities to work in a health clinic that the community built with many of their own resources. It was from this trip that I came to learn just how well the leaders in the community understood the rope illustration.

The volume of patients who visited the clinic on the first day was much smaller than any of the U.S. doctors expected. So, they asked the local leaders, “Why aren’t more people coming to receive medical care from us?”

“It may be that they cannot afford to pay,” their hosts replied.

Refusing To Listen
This was entirely unacceptable to the U.S. doctors. They reminded the leaders that they hadn’t traveled this far at such great sacrifice and expense to charge people for medical care. Afterall, they were on a mission trip, and they expected their services for free.

The leaders clarified as graciously as they could that, no, they did not plan to pay the doctors, but for the clinic to survive, they had to charge a small fee to cover the resident nurse, security guard, and most importantly the medications. But the doctors refused to listen. Their church was a sizable donor to the project, and they simply would not offer their assistance any other way; thinking, once again, that they really were helping. The local leaders stood firm at first, but as almost always happens, they eventually capitulated. Word quickly spread that the medical care was free. The next day, huge crowds showed up and kept the team busy. At the end of the day, many people left the clinic having never seen a doctor.

The rumblings of frustration in the community reached my office within a week after the well-intended doctors returned to their practices in the States. They left the clinic having dispensed all the medication and leaving the community with no way to replenish their stock or pay the staff.
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Whose Clinic Is It?
​During my next visit, just weeks after the doctors had departed, I attended a ‘spirited’ meeting with the leaders. They said, “you say that this clinic is ours. You say that you expect us to lead our community and indigenously sustain the development. Yet when Americans come, they act as if the clinic is theirs because they helped us build it.” They continued, “Your team of doctors did not listen or respect our leadership. Please tell us again, is this clinic ours, or is it yours?”

It was the right question.
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I apologized and reinforced that the clinic was their clinic and that we would make it right by helping them replace the drugs that the doctors dispensed for free. I was grateful that our friends were bold enough to confront us and to challenge the Western donor’s mindset that, while well-intended, undermined our goal of enabling the self-developing capabilities of the people.
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The community graduated from their partnership with 410 Bridge years ago. Today, they continue to sustain their clinic without outside resources. They’ve done the same with their water projects, school, and other community programs.
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I love to see leaders and their communities recognize that they are, in fact, empowered and gifted by God to do more than they ever thought possible. That can only happen when we, on this side of the bridge, separate what we give, and how we give it, from our need to feel good about ourselves.

​~ Kurt
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In his book – If You Really Want to Help – Kurt lays out a fresh blueprint for redefining the war on poverty, how to win it, and how we fight the battle together. His book will be released February 28, 2023 and is available for pre-order here.

I turned 60 a couple years ago. I hadn’t struggled with starting milestone-decades before, but the decade with a 6-handle felt different. It meant I was entering the fourth quarter and there wasn’t going to be overtime.
 
What changed the most was a newfound, palpable, sense of urgency to focus on the things that I said I was going to do but hadn’t. The big things. The things that needed to get done.
 
One of those things was writing the book.
 
It was something that people in my life kept pestering me about (in an encouraging way).
 
“Kurt, when are you going to write that book?”
 
“Kurt, how’s that book coming?”
 
The first problem… I never thought of myself as a writer. I love telling stories but converting the spoken word – full of facial expressions and animated body language – to the written word is not on my list of gifts. But this was the start of the fourth quarter. If not now, when?
 
The second question…. Why this book?
 
When we started 410 Bridge in 2006, we knew we wouldn’t be successful without generous support from this side of the bridge. What wasn’t so obvious at the time, but quickly became clear, was that while Western support was essential, it wasn’t enough. If we were really going to make a difference, we needed to change the paradigm of how the West engaged the poor.
 
If You Really Want to Help is just that. It tells the story of how 410 Bridge came to be and lays out an approach to extreme poverty that doesn’t see the poor and as a set of problems to be solved – a water problem, education problem, economic problem, or health problem. It sees the poor as the solution to their poverty problem.
 
In this book, I try to convey a foundational principle. When we define poverty as a material problem, our interventions will be solely financial. I find it fascinating that we (this side of the bridge) haven’t learned, or perhaps it’s just easier to ignore, that purely economic interventions do not solve the poverty problem. A better solution, if you really want to help, is to recognize that poverty is in issue of worldview – how people think, the story they tell themselves to be true.

The Story of Us

If You Really Want to Help describes our origin story, strategy, methods, successes and yes…. the many missteps along the way. It shares stories of real people who have been impacted by 410 Bridge’s work around the world. Impact that is measured against outcomes and is indigenously sustainable.
 
In the end, if we’re really going to help the poor, it starts with correctly defining the problem. And if we’re really going to help the poor shift their worldview from whatever it is today, to a worldview that helps them thrive and live an abundant life, we must start by changing how this side of the bridge engages.

~Kurt

In his book – If You Really Want to Help – Kurt lays out a fresh blueprint for redefining the war on poverty, how to win it, and how we fight the battle together. His book will be released February 28, 2023 and is available for pre-order here.
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Within the past two weeks, I’ve had a couple of interactions surrounding the turmoil in Haiti that are noteworthy. If somehow you haven’t heard, or maybe it just doesn’t come across your news feed, the latest in a seemingly endless series of crises in Haiti was the assassination of their president. A State of Siege was declared by the government, and once again, the situation in Haiti plunges further into uncertainty.
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Shortly after the assassination, I was forwarded an article from the NY Times – Interpreter titled, “How Did Things Get So Bad in Haiti?” The authors – Fisher and Taub - do a pretty good job of outlining the litany of problems (villains) that Haiti has faced over the years – European hostility, American meddling, international NGO’s, corruption, and “a decades-long series of man-made and natural disasters” as contributors to Haiti’s plight. They say it well, “The short answer is that there is no short answer.”

True.

And I wouldn’t disagree.

And yet… keep reading.

Another interaction I had around the same time was from a WhatsApp group that I’m in comprised of dozens of NGOs, missionaries, and well-wishers working in Haiti. The forum was established to provide critical security communications, facilitate support, information sharing, and collaboration between the participants. It works pretty well, and for the most part, serves everyone well.

In one particular thread, a participant took the opportunity to express their opinion on a solution to the civil unrest. They said, “It is not an exaggeration to say that… missionaries are the heart and soul of [Haiti].” They went on to encourage their peers to “…draft a letter to the White House, and US State Department and the US Embassy in Port au Prince to humbly request that they do something to stop the turmoil.”

…and herein lies the problem.

We see it subtly in the Interpreter article and obviously in the perspective of a dedicated well-wisher actively serving in Haiti.

The ‘heart and soul’ of Haiti are not the missionaries. The heart and soul of Haiti are the Haitian people. At best, the comment was written from emotion and is misguided. At worst, it’s disturbing and at the core of the problem with outside well-wishers.

The 410 Bridge has been working in rural Haitian communities, attempting to conduct our holistic community development model, for nearly 12 years. That may seem like a long time, but in Haitian years it is not. I say ‘attempting’ because the work is slow and fraught with challenges unique to other countries where we work. We’re outsiders. We see ourselves as guests, learners, and co-laborers.

Anyone that knows me, and the work of 410 Bridge, know that we do not define poverty as a material problem. We believe it is an issue of worldview. Lots of people I talk to have a problem with the word ‘worldview’. Perhaps because it’s steeped in religiosity, but it’s just a word. If you struggle with it, insert something else. It’s an issue of perspective… or the story that you tell yourself to be true… or the conversation you’re having in your head. Call it what you want. The truth is that we’ve seen the amazing transformation that can occur in a rural community struggling with extreme poverty when the focus moves from materiality to worldview change.

And that, to me, is the missing element in the Interpreter article and most certainly in the WhatsApp comment.

The article leaves out a fundamental ‘villain’ – the Haitian people’s worldview. When we continue to point to outsiders as the primary source of the problems in Haiti, and, even worse, point to outsiders as the primary source of the solutions, we simply reinforce a worldview that the Haitian people are incapable of their own development. We reinforce a victim mentality that takes them further and further away from claiming their empowerment and self-development.

For the 410 Bridge, our work is to partner with rural Haitian communities to help them lift themselves out of extreme poverty.

Indigenously led.

Ultimately indigenously sustainable.

We want to work ourselves out of a job as quickly as possible.

We envision 410 Bridge partner communities as beacons of ‘light on the hill’ for what’s possible in the rest of the country.

But we do not work in a vacuum. Haiti is a petri dish of well-intended outsiders focused on their version of the problem. Most, in my view, are focused on the wrong problem and that affects our potential success.

What’s missing – in the Interpreter article and the work of outsiders – will continue to be missing until we start to change the conversation and the actions around redefining the war on poverty. What it means to truly win it. What it means for the people living in poverty. And how we fight the battle together.

This is the first Father’s Day that I will spend without my father.

Arthur Edward Kandler III died about a month ago. His passing was not a surprise. He lived in our basement apartment for the past eight years. COVID lockdowns relegated him to seclusion. We helplessly watched as his inability to leave his apartment, play cards at the senior center, or socialize with his limited number of friends, slowly took its toll. His final weeks were painful to watch, and as difficult as it was, I was actually praying for God to take him.

What better way to celebrate Father’s Day, then to honor the gift that was the life of my dad.

I miss my father, but I miss my friend even more. Dad did an amazing job — decades ago — of transitioning from father to friend. I’m not sure when it happened. We didn’t talk about it. I didn’t realize it when it occurred. But it happened. Dad stopped looking for opportunities to give unsolicited advice, or question my questionable decisions. Somewhere along the way he transitioned to asking me for a story, or my perspective on an issue, and was generally interested in simply sharing life together. We talked about mutual interests, debated sports, played fantasy football, or just threw our heads back and laughed at the crazy world around us. Most often, we just sat together in silence and just enjoyed each other’s company.

As tremendously sad as it is to deal with his loss, I am overcome by different emotion.

Gratitude.

I am humbled and grateful for the man who showed me how to be a father. Grateful for the man who showed me how to love, honor, and respect Erika. And grateful for the man who modeled a life of virtue.

I’m heartbroken on too many occasions to hear of men navigating the aftermath of broken relationships with their fathers. Even worse, to see a man’s broken relationship with God because of their relationship with their earthly father.

I didn’t have any of those issues and, thankfully, I came to realize that while dad was still with us and was able to thank him many times. Dad modeled an amazing, loving marriage to Betty for nearly 60 years. He was funny, hard-working, and always likable. He wasn’t terribly talkative, but when he did speak, I knew to listen. He didn’t play that advice card too often.

A defining moment for me may have been the most impactful, unsolicited and unambiguous advice he gave me. Maybe he gave me more, but never have I been more grateful for his boldness to get in my face.

I was a young man in my late twenties. Like most single men at 28, I was full of piss and vinegar, sure of myself, and energetic. I had recently met Erika and we had been dating for a few months. Out of the blue, dad pulled me aside one day. He was literally poking me in the chest when he said, “Son? I’m not sure what you’re thinkin’, but I’m not sure you’re thinkin.’ if you let this young lady get away, you are an idiot. Don’t be a moron.”

Ha!

Bold statement, dad. It got my attention because, like I said, he didn’t play the ‘advice card’ all that often and the intentionality of his tone stopped me in my tracks. It was the advice that I needed and I started viewing Erika in a different light. Not because my father told me too, but because well… I was being a moron and I didn’t see what was in front of me. And dad knew it.

It was a defining moment and I’m super grateful.

Over the past year, dad was in and out of the hospital with variety of different procedures. The evening before one of those procedures, I was in Shreveport LA. Dad texted me because he wanted to talk. Again, not something that was the norm. When I called, he was concerned that he would not survive the procedure. He was increasingly weak, and that reality was not lost on him. He wanted to say his goodbye. Something I didn’t expect and handle well. He started by thanking me. I couldn’t believe it. He was thanking me?

He thanked me for being a son that he could be proud of. For honoring Erika and modeling a solid marriage for his grandchildren. For raising his grandchildren with strong values. And for opening our home to him. He just wanted me to know how proud he was to be my father.

I was a mess and desperately tried to explain that I was the one who was proud to be his son. Grateful to him for showing me how to be a solid husband, father and friend. It was an exchange I will never forget and words that make me overwhelmed with gratitude.

Dads… your children, especially your sons, need to know that you are proud of them. Tell them.

Dads… At some point, your children will be men and women. They will require less of us as fathers and more of us as deeply bound friends.

I count my father’s life as one of the greatest gifts from God that I could ever have imagined.

Thanks dad. You are deeply loved and gravely missed.